


How Life Can Change with a Single Decision

by VMarsLover



Category: Mortal Instruments, The Mortal Instruments (Movies), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: 1963, Alice - Freeform, All Human, Bar, Blow Jobs, Clary Wayland, Complete, Drinking, F/M, Green Eyes, Historical, Jonathan - Freeform, Mortal instruments - Freeform, OOC, Oral Sex, Out of Character, POV Jace Wayland, PTSD, Post-Book Series: The Mortal Instruments, Rated M, Rated Mature, Scandal, Seb - Freeform, Sex, Short Story, Smut, USA, Vaginal Sex, Vietnam War, Vmarslover, War, Wayland - Freeform, clace, clary - Freeform, clary fairchild - Freeform, jace - Freeform, jace wayland - Freeform, kiss, no birth control, three part, tmi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:27:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26538826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VMarsLover/pseuds/VMarsLover
Summary: It is 1963, and Jace Wayland will be shipped out to Vietnam tomorrow. Him and his buddy go for one last night out of drinking at the local bar. While there he connects with a red-headed goddess he can't resist, with green eyes that will haunt him for Years to follow. (Don't need to know anything about the war) Rated M for sexual content. Clace. Human. 3 Part Story. COMPLETE. OOC
Relationships: Clary Fray/Jace Wayland
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Welcome to my first historical fiction. You don't need to know anything about the war to read this, I wrote a quick summary of what you might need. I hope you enjoy! I plan to make three parts depending on how this is received, so make sure to review! They make me happy.
> 
> If you haven't read my work before, welcome! Follow me on FanFiction.Net, Wattpad, here, and on Instagram all under the name vmarslover. I post sneak peeks, images and updates to stories, so come say hi there. Most of my stories are on Fanfiction.net, I am working on transferring stories here.  
> Disclaimer: I don't own the Mortal Instruments. I am no author, so there will be grammar or spelling errors.  
> Warning: Lots of detailed sexual content. Rated M.
> 
> There is a short background lesson. So, the Vietnam War began in 1955 and ended in 1975. It started off with the French losing control of the country, and leaving the Vietnamese with independence. It was short lived when North Vietnam who was communist to invade South Vietnam which was more of a free state. This occurred during the cold war, so tensions between the united states and USSR/Russia was high. US got involved in the war in Vietnam because they were worried of the communists there winning, and that this would be a pattern of countries becoming communists. Hints why my character is uses the term commies as a phrase. Many people did not want to fight another countries battle, so enlisting in the US was low, and there was a lot of men who fled to Canada to avoid it. This is the 1960's and birth control(the pill) was not invented, there was condoms or absence, since the mind set was that sex was primarily for baby making only. Premarital sex was furrowed upon, and so was women being out alone in a bar.
> 
> Enjoy!

_Description: It is 1963, and Jace Wayland will be shipped out to Vietnam tomorrow. Him and his buddy go for one last night out of drinking at the local bar. While there he connects with a red headed goddess he can't resist, with green eyes that will haunt him for years to follow. Rated M. Clace. Human._

* * *

How Life Can Change with Single Decision: Part 1 (2.4K)

My letter came this evening, and I find myself filled with horror; I know when my cousin forced me to sign up, I might get called. I just figured I'd get the call soon after, not 2 months later. I walk over to my mom and hand it to her, and I watch her face go from happy to a look of misery. Next thing I know, she has tears falling down her face, and she pulls me into a tight hug.

She whispers that things will be okay and that I will return. My father walks into the room and feels the uncomfortable atmosphere but does not say anything; instead, he wraps an arm around us.

We spend the day together as a family, and when night falls, my bags are packed, and I decide there is one last person I need to see. I tell my parents I'll be back in the morning and skip outside and walk down the road. I reach the bright yellow house and climb the steps and knock on the door. Carole opens the door and allows me inside. I rush through the house, and I get to the stairs.

"Hey, man."

"Hi Jordan," I reply, and I hold my arm up with the letter clenched in my fist.

Jordan sees it and jumps up and grabs it from me and quickly reads it. Once done, he reacts in anger and grabs a mug on the table and smashes it on the wall.

"Jesus, man, you would think it was actually you who was going," I say.

"Sorry, it is not every day my best friend gets notified he is being sent to Vietnam. To fight a war with the commies."

I shrug because reacting will not do me any good. I did volunteer, even if it was against my will.

"We have to say goodbye, we are going to go get you smashed." And he stands up, grabbing his black leather jacket, and we rush out of the house.

The autumn air cold, and a bunch of leaves blow in our direction as we walk down the quiet street, only being past by two cars. Once in the bar, my mood rises, and I feel at home.

We sit at the bar, and the bartender hands us some beers. Jordan and I exchange stories of our childhood together for hours. Like the time we got caught sneaking cookies from my parents and had to hide in the woods for a few hours because we were worried about punishment.

We exchange ridiculous stories, and while I was in the middle of reminding him of the time we stole from old man Starkweather, Jordan stands up and whistles. I look up from my beer that is chilled in my hand, look at his face. His brown eyes are looking behind me, and I find myself turning around to see what he is looking at.

A blonde, brunette, and red hair just walked into the bar, and I know for sure Jordan will go for the dark-haired girl and imagine he expects me to go for the blonde, but I find myself drawn to the redhead.

She walks into the room with her friends with such confidence. She is smiling and walking with purpose. She is dressed in a dark green dress with a square collar and long sleeves that are tight around her body that falls right below her knee, not leaving much to my imagination. I look at her shoes and see the matching green flats and realize she is short and does not attempt to be something she is not by wearing heels.

Her and her friends walk to the bar laughing and order some drinks, not before the bartender hesitates to serve them. I glare at him, and he looks over at me, and he pales a bit before pouring them.

The group of girls turn to look at me, probably out of curiosity as to why the bartender complied. They all smile, but I don't care; I just look at the redhead whose green dress matches her eyes. Her curly hair falls down her back in loose curls, and I resist the urge to walk 10 feet to run my fingers through her hair.

Jordan gives me a nudge and whispers for me to go for it, so I do. Then the next thing I know, I am walking, one foot in front of the other, until I am right in front of the group who are all giving me questionable looks.

I extend my hand to the redhead and introduce myself as Jace.

She then accepts my hand and tells me her name is Clary.

The rest of her friends leave us, and we talk and drink.

Next thing I know, she leans towards me and presses her soft lips to mine. A moan escapes my lips, and I cup her face with my right hand, while my left-hand wanders to her hip, waiting for her to smack it away, but she doesn't. So, I continue.

She runs her fingers through my hair, and my hands fall down her back. We break apart slightly to breathe, and I don't wait long to start sucking on her neck. This time she moans, and I feel myself growing hard.

I stop working on her neck and move my lips to her ear and whisper, "Let's get out of here." She nods and jumps off her bar stool and grabs my hand pulling me out of the bar.

I tell her my parents are home, and she nods, walking us towards to closest motel. I quickly pay for the room, and we rush inside.

As soon as I close the door, I am on her, and she jumps into my arms, wrapping her legs around my waist, and I press her against the wall. She grinds her hips against mine as I suck on her neck, causing her to moan again. I hope she is this vocal when I am inside of her.

As my mouth moves along her neck, I have one hand pressed against the wall for balance and my other rests on her knee and slowly climbs under her dress to her promise land, and I find my hard twitch.

I push her panties to the side, and I rub her slowly. I slowly increase the speed of playing with her, creating more friction until she moans for me to get inside her. I thrust 3 fingers inside of her with full force, following a circular motion exploring her insides because I find her spot. She screams my name and begs me to go faster, running her fingers into my hair.

I pick up the pace, my fingers coming in and out of her quickly, and her juice is spilling all over my fingers. She pulls at my hair until I feel a big gush, and she calms down.

I spin us around and carry her to the bed, and I lower her on the bed. Her breathing has recovered, and I have her attention with her pupils dilated so large that her eyes are almost black. While I have her attention, I put my fingers in my mouth and suck her juices off of them, and I find myself almost combusting in my jeans.

She pushes her thighs together and bites her lip and sucks on it, drawing me in. I pounce and lay on top of her, kissing her lips. Her arms find there way around me; she runs her hands under my shirt and, with both hands, starts to lift it over my arms. I break away from our kiss and let her take it off, and I take this as an opportunity to remove her dress.

I slide both my hands underneath and move the fabric, so it is above her thighs, and I can see her cute panties that I know I am about to tear off. Once the dress is over her head, she kisses my neck and starts to place with my belt preventing me from ripping them off just yet. She undoes my belt, and I love the feel of her soft lips on my neck, and she kisses all the away down my chest and starts to unzip my jeans, and I find myself wishing her lips were wrapped around my cock. Then fantasy becomes a reality when she rips me out of my underwear and quickly loads me into her mouth.

The sensation is extreme, and I find myself finding it hard to hold back and not blow a load right there. She bobs up and down and plays with my balls by giving them a squeeze. My hands find her hair, and I pull at her soft curls, and she gags, and I find myself smiling.

I find myself soon coming undone, and I tell her to stop before I lose it, and she does. I am panting, and she comes up and gives me a shy smile, and I don't wait, and this time flips her onto the bed and rip her panties off and toss them somewhere. She laughs and tells me they were her favourite. I tell her I prefer her nude and throw 2 fingers in again to see how wet she is before I jam myself inside. I undo her bra with one hand and toss it away.

The moisture inside of herm pleases me, and I feel I am dreaming because she seems so perfect. She moans as I work my fingers inside of her and tells me to get inside her. I kiss her neck and push back to kick my jeans and underwear off.

With her on the bed, she opens her legs, and I hover above her. In one swift motion, I push inside her, and she both moans. I pick up my pace, and I switch it up by throwing her legs over my shoulder, changing our position, so I have better access to her g spot. It works, and she gushes immediately. I lower her back down, and I lay us side by side and lift her leg, creating an opening for me to push back in.

Her hand reaches for me and finds my hair and yanks on it with each thrust, and I find myself nearly falling into a bliss of how good her magical fingers feel.

She pulls away from me and turns to face me and places her hand on my bare chest and pushes me flat to the bed, so I am on my back. She quickly aligns herself with me and slams down and starts bouncing up and down. Her boobs bounce around, and I find myself cupping them in my hands where they fit perfectly and squeeze them, and she moans as I massage her pink nipples. Her red hair flies everywhere, covering her wonderful face until she throws her head back, arching her back away from me, and she cums again.

I flip us over again, and I thrust inside her, and I feel myself building up until I explode inside her, and I pull out. I jam my fingers inside her, and she moans, and I manage to give her one more high before we both pass out.

* * *

When I wake, I am confused by the warm presence at my side. I open my eyes and see this beautiful girl beside me. Her hands are folded under her head like a pillow, her naked body covered by a blanket that somehow was thrown over me as well. Her hair is all over the pill, and I rest my head back on my own pillow and breathe in the smell; she smells like lemons.

My right arm is around her middle, and I just take in this movement. This might be the last time I have sex and not only that. But the sex was something I really enjoyed, and it felt different. It had such a passion for it that I can't describe.

I shift myself and pull myself away from her so I can use the washroom. I move away slowly, and she remains still, and I walk to the restroom, not bothering with clothes. As I walk into the washroom, I discover I am all sticky, and It takes me too long to realize why. I shot a load into her. WITHOUT A RUBBER.

Shame rushes through me, and it is quickly taken over with panic. I can't be a father. This girl will be all alone with my child, I am leaving in a few hours.

Where I could die.

I could die.

Suddenly everything hits me. I am going to war. This girl might be pregnant.

I crash to the floor and cry for who knows how long.

I come out of a trance when I feel a pair of warm hands cup my face. I look up, and I am looking into the deep green eyes of the girl's life I screwed up.

"What's wrong, Jace?" she asks quietly.

I open my mouth, and nothing comes out, and I choke again. I must tell her; she has to know.

"We didn't use a condom," her eyes go from confusion to fear in a second. I caused that fear. She wraps an arm around me, and I pull her into my arms.

"What do we do?" she asks.

"We get married." I quickly say, and she snaps back away from me.

"' I might be a woman, but I don't believe in having to marry the guys I sleep with."

"No, hear me out. I am heading to base camp in a few hours, and I might not return for a while," I pause and add, "if at all." She looks down at her hands and begins picking at her nails, so I continue speaking, "You can have my name and be entitled to my wage if something happens, you can be supported."

We argue for a while after that, and I see the sadness in her eyes as she accepts. We clean our selves off, and we go to townhall first thing in the morning and sign the papers.

We are now Mr. and Ms. Jace Wayland.

We part ways, and I promise to write, and she nods. I never write to her. I become consumed by war by focusing on returning to the girl I left behind.

Her eyes haunt my dreams from the last time I saw her as I walked away from her at townhall to go home and say bye to my parents. She looked destroyed, and I felt destroyed myself realizing I caused this. I am leaving her with a burden of now being attached to me forever. A man she might never know, her husband

* * *

**My friend says I should leave this as a one-shot, prove my friend wrong and support the story to get a second part.**

**Clary is no typical girl in the 1960's, with her going to bars and having one night stands. This would be scandal.**

**Questions: What was your favorite part? Will Jace make it back? Will it be HEA for the pair? Is Clary pregnant?**


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a short background lesson. So, the Vietnam War began in 1955 and ended in 1975. It started off with the French losing control of the country, and leaving the Vietnamese with independence. It was short lived when North Vietnam who was communist to invade South Vietnam which was more of a free state. This occurred during the cold war, so tensions between the united states and USSR/Russia was high. US got involved in the war in Vietnam because they were worried of the communists there winning, and that this would be a pattern of countries becoming communists. Hints why my character is uses the term commies as a phrase. Many people did not want to fight another countries battle, so enlisting in the US was low, and there was a lot of men who fled to Canada to avoid it. This is the 1960's and birth control(the pill) was not available across the state, and was only given to married couples. So safe sex was condoms or absence, since the mind set was that sex was primarily for baby making only. Premarital sex was furrowed upon, and so was women being out alone in a bar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author' Note: Hi everyone, sorry it took so long for this to be posted. I am so thankful for the amount of support this story has received. As you can see I did not take my friends advice and I wrote a second part.
> 
> If you haven't read my work before, welcome! Follow me on Fanfiction, Wattpad, here, and on Instagram all under the name vmarslover. I post sneak peeks, images and updates to stories, so come say hi there. I have several one shots, and one multi fic in progress.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own the Mortal Instruments. I am no author, so there will be grammar or spelling errors.

_ How Life Can Change with a Single Decision (1.7K) _

I don't bother calling my family before leaving, and when my plane lands, there is no one waiting for me. A few men who were in my platoon came back with me. I stand there blankly as they rush into their wife's arms, where they express tears of joy as these fathers met their new children who they left behind a year ago. Not everyone was gone as long as me.

The majority of these men serve maybe a year, and they are sent back to camp or home for some time. I was two days away from going home for leave when I was promoted from Private to Corporal after the last one died. From there, the cycle continued of bad luck, where I would be close to coming home, then I would be promoted because of someone else's death.

After seven years, I quickly worked myself up the ranks to First Lieutenant, where I served under Captain Lightwood, who took me under his wing and showed me how things are done. He was my saviour, and I am grateful for his teachings.

After many failed attempts to come home, my family grew disappointed with each time, so for the past five years, I stopped telling them when and instead did not say anything, which is half the reason I didn't tell them I was coming home.

The only reason I return today is because of an honourable discharge. After the explosion a couple of months ago at our base, half of my men in my platoon were blown to shreds in front of me, leaving me with nightmares where I would wake up screaming in the night. Although this went on for months, I turned down Lightwood's attempts to send me home. I wanted to stay; after seven years, it was my new home. My friends and family had moved on without me, and I had no place there.

Jordan married that girl from the bar around three years ago. My parents ended up getting pregnant, making me a big brother, replacing me with another boy. Everyone else who wrote to me gave me similar news, and it made me nervous about returning since it is fear of the unknown. Of the world, I no longer know.

In my seven years, I never once heard from Clary. I couldn't even contact her since I don't know her maiden name, and it is possible she doesn't go by Wayland. That being said, I didn't try to contact her either, since I told her to write and she agreed. Something she fell short of.

So why should I bother?

Oh, maybe because I am unsure if I am a father or not.

I never told my parents I married, mainly because I was worried about their reaction and was fearful of their response. So, I kept it quiet, which was easy to do when you don't hear from your wife in seven years.

Why Clary never wrote was a question that haunted me for a while. Did she pass away? Was she shamed for our actions?

I don't know her; I just know her physical appearance. How old is she? Does she have parents close by? Does she work?

These questions have filled my mind for years, and I have no answers. When I drift into thought, I often close my eyes and see her deep green eyes. The eyes that drew me close to her that night at the bar. I wanted answers for seven years, but now that I am here, I want to flea.

The reason for my leave was brought on by me, making a promise to my captain. For years I dodged his attempts to send me home, but as I held him in the jungle with the rain pouring on us during his last movements. He made me promise to return home to my life. I promised, then he died. With me holding him until I was thrown backwards, slamming into something and blacking out.

I sat in a hospital bed for a week as they fixed me up. No long-lasting physical damage occurred during the blast, just a concussion and cuts. The emotional trauma was overwhelming. A few days after the captain's death, I was offered that position, and it was not pushed onto me. I turned it down by confessing my mental state of seven years of horror with no break. They seemed surprised by my confession, probably wondering why it took this long for me to snap.

All because of a promise.

Now it is spring of 1971, just over seven years after I left. I have no money, no wife, no home, and no one waiting for me. Why did I bother returning?

I walk with my bag, hung on my back down the road and don't turn back. Instead, I use this time to think. How am I going to find Clary?

* * *

I stop outside the bright blue house and look at the newly painted doors and fence. Surely these aren't the only things that have changed, and I feel my hands grow calmly at what else I have missed.

I build myself and begin climbing the steps of my childhood home and knock twice. I hear a woman say, 'One minute,' and eventually, the door swings open.

My mom stands before me, and it takes a moment for her to register it is me because she yells for Stephen and throws herself into my arms. I catch her, and we hug. I draw comforting circles on her back as she sobs, thanking the Lord.

Little does she know my faith in humanity is gone. I doubt he would bring me home.

My father joins us, and it is just like the morning before I left. We stand there together and embrace each other in a collective hug. This time it isn't only the three of us. My now four-year-old brother comes up and throws himself in the middle and looks shyly up at me and introduces himself as Max.

I spend the night getting to learn my new family, but I find myself thinking about those green eyes again, and I know I must find her. I need the truth.

I sleep in my old room that hasn't been touched in 7 years, and I wake the next morning with a mission. Buy food for breakfast and find Clary after.

My dad gives me the keys to his car and threatens me not to hurt his baby, and I drive to the one grocery store that hasn't changed in the time I have been gone. The yellow building isn't yellow; it is more of a cream colour because of the amount of dust covering the whole outside of the building.

I park the car and walk towards the store; this was interrupted by having to stop quickly because a man was going to hit me. He yells through the window at me, and I flip him the bird.

I pull the door open for myself and the lady behind me who happens to be clutching a small child in her arms. Her brown hair makes me realize it isn't Clary, but I have hope I will find her, maybe not here, but hopefully somewhere.

I grab a cart for the lady with the child and one for myself. She places the child inside, she smiles at me and carries on her way, going in the opposite direction.

I walk through the store glancing at new products the store did not carry before, finding myself mesmerized by its packaging and existence. I follow the handwritten list my mother gave me, and I go up and down the aisle trying to find things. Once I've finished all the aisles, I realize I never found sugar.

I sigh and spin myself around. Before I left for Vietnam, the sugar had been located with the breakfast goodies, and now I am forced to backtrack the store to find it.

I turn the corner, and suddenly I am pushed back from the force of my cart clashing with another cart. I find myself fading into a dark place, thinking about how the sound was like the vehicle that got tossed when Lightwood exploded. I mentally shake myself out of the state and look up from the list, and I see the green eyes who have haunted me.

Clary

Right before me. In this grocery store.

My eyes drift away from her eyes, and I am drawn to the light-haired child glaring at me with the same green eyes as she sits in the cart.

I look back up to Clary, thinking I am hallucinating. She wears a look of shock, and her mouth falls open.

"Jace?" she asks quietly.

Words fail me, and I nod. She walks away from the cart and wraps her arms around me, pulling me into a hug. At first, I flinch, but I allow the hug and return it. I put my face in the crook of her neck and breathe in her smell. Lemons.

I smile, I actually found her. Without looking.

I feel a warm feeling in my belly, and I can barely recognize it as the feeling of joy—something I haven't experienced in some time. The joy is soon gone when I realize we are being watched.

I pull myself away from Clary and look at her face. She has silent tears rolling down her cheeks. I find myself lifting my hand to wipe them away. She smiles, but I remain cold, giving her a blank look.

I left my child.

Behind me sits a blonde little girl with green eyes that looks around 7. I have a daughter.

I find myself crashing to the ground on my knees, sobbing.

The shaking becomes so intense that I feel I can't breathe. Luckily, I am pulled out of my mind by soft hands lifting my face. I meet Clary's eyes, and she smiles.

Then I do the unthinkable.

I kiss her.

While both of us sit on the grocery store floor crying.

I have a daughter.

Eventually, I pull away from Clary after I have calmed my breathing. She smiles, and I feel the rush of joy again. I have a wife who is happy to see me.

We stand up and I wipe the new tears from her eyes, and she wipes mine.

"So, who is this?" The little girl asks.

Clary takes charge and says, "Oh, Alice, this is Jace. Jace, this is Alice, my niece." I freeze at the words that ring in my mind.

My niece.

* * *

**AN: So oops.**

**Sorry not sorry. I hope you enjoyed it, I was also nice and I didn't kill him.**

**So originally part one was supposed to end with their carts colliding, and now we are all caught up. There will be a THIRD part, sorry for lying. I get carried away.**

**So Alice is Clary's niece.**

**It was common for men to be close to returning home but be forced to remain in the field because of a promotion. Jace was one of the unlucky ones who stayed longer than usual.**

**Question time: So will they remain married? HEA? Why did Clary not write? Will Jace go back to Vietnam? Can he over come is trauma?**

**Make sure to click kudos and comment!**

**Stay safe**


	3. Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a short background lesson. So, the Vietnam War began in 1955 and ended in 1975. It started off with the French losing control of the country, and leaving the Vietnamese with independence. It was short lived when North Vietnam who was communist to invade South Vietnam which was more of a free state. This occurred during the cold war, so tensions between the united states and USSR/Russia was high. US got involved in the war in Vietnam because they were worried of the communists there winning, and that this would be a pattern of countries becoming communists. Hints why my character is uses the term commies as a phrase. Many people did not want to fight another countries battle, so enlisting in the US was low, and there was a lot of men who fled to Canada to avoid it. This is the 1960's and birth control(the pill) was not available across the state, and was only given to married couples. So safe sex was condoms or absence, since the mind set was that sex was primarily for baby making only. Premarital sex was furrowed upon, and so was women being out alone in a bar.

**AN: Thank you so much to everyone who has followed me on this journey. Tonight it concludes, thank you so much and make sure to review.**

**Disclaimer** **: I do not own TMI, and I am no professional. There is spelling and grammar mistakes.**

* * *

_How Life Can Change with a Single Decision- Part 3(2.7K)_

_Previously:_

_Clary takes charge and says, "Oh, Alice, this is Jace. Jace, this is Alice, my niece." I freeze at the words that ring in my mind._

_My niece._

* * *

Those words ring in my mind.

Niece.

I don't actually have a child.

I shift my eyes from Alice to Clary, and she gives me a puzzled look.

Instead, I don't comment and stick my hand out to Alice to shake it, and she shakes back.

"Uh, Auntie Clary. Who is he?"

Sure, now you use the words auntie.

"Well, this isn't easy, but Jace has been gone for a long time, and we are married. Like your parents."

"So, are you guys going to have a baby too?"

Clary freezes, and her eyes start to drift to me, but she quickly gains control of herself again and looks back at Alice with a smile.

"Not right now, sweetheart," Clary answers.

"Do you want to go to dinner?" I blurt out before I can stop myself.

Clary locks eyes with me and answers, "I am supposed to be bringing food for dinner to my brothers since it is his wife's birthday. He is busy with his 4-year-old, and his wife is 8months pregnant, so he asked me to take Alice away to escape the chaos."

Alice nods.

"Yeah, Julian is sooooo loud. No one in my house sleeps. He is either whining or throwing his truck at me."

I laugh, oh the joys of being young.

"You are welcome to come" Clary adds, and I look into her green eyes and see hope. Something I have grown unfamiliar too.

"Uh, sure," Clary smiles widely and pulls out a card and gives it to me.

_Jonathan Morgenstern_

_Carpenter_

_8667 Church Rd._

"He lives in the apartment above the business, I'll come out and wait there for you, so you don't have to walk up alone."

"Sure thing, what time?"

"Oh, lots of children means early dinners. We eat at 5:30, so I suggest showing up at 5."

I nod and thank her. She reaches out, and I brace myself feeling panic rush through me, and I worry I won't be able to breathe. But the feeling doesn't come; she gives my arm a squeeze and wishes me well and walks away.

Leaving me to my thoughts. Again

* * *

I drink a beer before dinner and make way through the town. Her brother's business is only a 10-minute walk, and my dad took my mom and Max to the movies, so they used the car.

The breeze reminds me of the night I met Clary. Slightly chilly but not enough to be cold.

I reach the town, and I find myself in awe of the number of lights here. It is beautiful. But as I walk, I find something more beautiful. Or someone.

There standing outside the shop, is Clary. Her red curls are being held back with a bright green headband, and she's dressed in the most scandalous clothing that I have ever seen; I even find myself drooling.

She wears really short demin short and a bright green shirt with no sleeves, that matches the headband.

The shorts make her legs look incredibly long, especially for her height, and I can't help myself from thinking about what they will look like wrapped around my waist.

I mentally try and shake the image out of my head before I combust in my jeans.

She looks up from the ground and locks eyes with me. Instead of a smile this time, she wears a frown. She marches up to me and raises her hand to slap me.

Since being overseas, my reflexes have sharpened up, and I quickly grab her hand before it connects.

"Who do you think you are? You just casually shop up? Have you been here this whole time? You leave me and don't bother to write. What is the matter with you?" She screams as I continue to hold her hand, so she doesn't try and strike me yet.

We stay like this for a while, but I don't listen to her screaming. I watch her face for what feels like forever until I see tears forming in her eyes, and then they watch them slowly roll down her face.

I drop her hand and step towards her and pull her into my embrace. She surprisingly accepts and cries silently into my shirt, soaking it. Eventually, her breathing slows, and she pulls away.

I take her face in my hands and tilt her face up to look at me.

"I am sorry I didn't write to you because I was focused on staying alive and doing my job. Even if I did write, it would have been filled with false hopes, which I regret giving my parents" I defend.

"I didn't even know if you were alive." She whispers back.

"I am sorry for that."

"All I needed was a letter from you, and you didn't even have the decency to give me that comfort. What if I had been pregnant? Thinking my husband was dead was bad enough; if I had to worry about my child's father being dead as well, is a terfficing thought. For 7 years, I thought you were dead; my only reassurance is there was no mention of your death in the papers. My only hope for 7 years is that the papers were reporting deaths currently and recording the right names."

"I am sorry I didn't write. But you also didn't write."

She gives me a head tilt.

"I did write, but the letter came back saying this person didn't exist."

"What name did you use?" I ask.

"Jace Wayland," hearing this makes my stomach clutch.

"That's because my legal name isn't Jace on my Vietnam documents. My cousin filled out the application and used my given name Jonathan."

Clary's face goes from confusion, so anger.

"You couldn't have mentioned that?"

"Sorry, I am sure you remember we weren't doing a lot of talking that night. I didn't even know what your maiden name was or if you took my name."

"Don't you dare try and spin this to it being my fault."

"I never said it was your fault. I am saying we are both at fault," I say, and she narrows her eyes at me.

"How did I end up married to you? I was going places before I met you. But no. I wasted my life waiting for a ghost to come back." She says with venom in her voice.

I reach out and take her hands, and she doesn't pull away. "I am here, and I have every intention of trying to make it up to you. I want our life together to be long and prosperous."

She looks up to me with a softness in her eyes now. "So, you won't be returning?"

I shake my head and say, "No, I want you. I don't know what it is, but I want you. I know we don't know each other, but I want to work on us. I feel like a new person with you. I was immature when I met you, and I tried to do right by you, and I want to continue that pattern. I am different now, and I hope you can understand that. The things I've seen Clary can't be unseen, and I have been extreme on edge since I got home. But the second I saw you, things felt better. I felt safe in your embrace. I haven't had safe since my night with you. If you are willing to work on things, I am all in. If not, we can get an annulment since we never consummated our marriage; I won't force you into anything. Not now, not ever."

I pause and look at Clary for an answer, and she just smiles at me.

"Wow, I married a dumbie." And she punches my arm. "Of course, I want this; why would I consider having you over for dinner with my brother if I wasn't serious"

I shrug, unable to answer, and I find myself annoyed that after my long speech, that is all she says.

She pushes away from me and takes my hands in hers. Her skin is so smooth and soft. She smiles up at me, and her green eyes sparkle up at me. Next thing I know, she leaps towards me and wraps her arms around my neck, wrapping her legs around my body while I hold her up.

Her lips find mine, and it is magical.

The kiss is sweet and loving. Wait, did I say loving?

We stay like this for a while, and Clary is the one that comes up for air first. She rests her forehead against mine, and it feels incredibly intimate, and I feel myself smiling like a dork.

She leans towards me and whispers in my ear, "Don't worry about consummating our marriage; we will have plenty of time for that."

I laugh.

"Now, put me down before my brother comes down looking for me or my shorts ripping. These aren't meant for me to do anything, but standing, they are soooo tight."

I laugh again and look down at the girl, that is my wife. Forever and always.

* * *

The dinner is too awkward, especially since apparently Jonathan and his wife Kaelie had no clue Clary was married. Their reactions were shocking, and suddenly I am pinned by Jonathan in the Kitchen.

I try and suppress the darkness that fills my mind, thinking I am going to die, and I need to flea since this is an enemy I cannot fight.

I am pulled out of my state by someone drawing circles on my chest. I look down and discover I am no longer pinned, and Clary is looking up at me, smiling, with concern in her eyes. I try to smile at her, and I plant a kiss on her forehead and whisper a thank you.

Jonathan apologized, saying he did not know that I had just got back from the war, and I am still recovering from shellshock. Then defends himself, saying he didn't know my name until a few hours ago.

Afterwards, we have a good time, and we eat together as a family. Alice and her siblings dance around, and eventually, Clary must separate them when they begin to fight.

Clary and I leave and go to her apartment. When she mentions she has a flat, I am shocked.

She smiles and reminds me that she is different. I nod and remind her that's why I fell for her.

During my time away, Clary built herself a teaching career to support herself. She shows me around the small apartment, and I feel why Clary was drawn to it.

She excuses herself and wants to get ready for bed and encourages me to explore.

I walk around the living room, seeing all the photos of her family displayed. Turns out, her parents live an hour away and are her biggest fans, and she loves them. I find pictures of herself in a classroom dressed like the beauty she is—a strong career-driven woman.

I continue to look until I hear a cough,

I spin around and find my wife. Mmmm, my wife. I could get used to that. Staying behind me in nothing than but a pair of panties letting her breasts hang free.

"I figured I'd like to keep you from destroying the rest of my clothes, so I helped yo-"She doesn't get to finish the sentence because I slam my lips into hers.

She moans and presses herself against me. Even though my clothes, I can feel her warmth.

My lips latch onto her neck, and I suck on her neck, leaving a mark, but she moans in responses. I cup her breasts in my hand and message them.

"You like that baby?"

She moans again, and I smile. I slap her backside and I adjust myself to pick her up. She automatically wraps her legs around me, and I walk her to a countertop while she works on my jacket's zipper.

I rest her on the countertop and lay her down as I hover over her. She tries to remove my pants, but I take her hands and raise them above her head, whispering that we have all night.

I pin her hands with one of mine, and my other hand makes quick work of finding her wet centre.

"Oh baby, is this for me?"

"Yes, oh my god. I need more."

I quicken my pace, and she pants and continues to beg me for more until I feel her explode, continuing to coat my fingers. I pull out of her and look into her eyes that look to dazed, and she gives me a drunken smile.

I smile back and bring my hand to my lips and suck her juices off my fingers slowly, and I moan.

Next thing I know, my shirt has followed my jacket somewhere, and her hands are on my body playing with my belt as her lips crawl my jawline and nibble on my ear.

Once my belt is down, she removes my pants in one swift motion.

She pushes us away from the countertop and drags me to a couch and pushes me down into a sitting pushing.

The next thing I know, she is crawling on top of me and quickly slamming herself down on me.

As soon as I enter her, I am filled with a sensation I have missed so much. She's so hot and tight, and I feel myself losing it when every time she bounces up and down. I cup her breasts as the bounce up and down.

She continues to move and sucks on my neck.

"We need to change, darling," I whisper, and she pulls away. I shift us quickly, throwing her onto her back, leaving one leg down while I wrap the other around myself, and slam into her again.

She throws her head back and screams my name as I continue to thrust into her.

She cums again and again while telling me to give her more.

Somehow, we end up on the carpet, but neither of us cares.

She lays on her elbows and knees with her round backside up in the air. I

I wrap myself around her and kiss her shoulder as I find her entrance and slam back into her.

She moans and tells me to go faster, and I do. The next thing I know is I am blasting a load inside her. We both collapse on the blue carpet, panting and sweating.

We look at each other and smile. This is what I came back for my new life.

The movements that follow I don't regret.

After not being able to find a job, I find an interest in bar keeping; At the same bar where I met my wife. After a few years, I eventually shift my career to writing. I write about my experiences in Vietnam to help me overcome the memories and nightmares.

The first year of our time together was rough, since every night, Id wake and leave Clary to sleep on the couch out of fear of waking up and hurting her.

She managed to pull the fear out of me and brought me back to bed.

We have two children together 5 years later, after not being in such a rush.

Being obedient to my cousin William allowed me this life. As crazy as it sounds, I might not have this now if I hadn't gone to Vietnam because that was the only reason I went to the bar. Not saying war is a good thing, but it changed my life and allowed me the opportunity to share my experience and help others overcome their trauma since I had experienced my fair share. With all the trauma I went through, it is nice to know some of it was worth it even though the outcome of the war was not what I wanted.

Isn't it funny how life can change with a single decision?

**The End**

* * *

**AN: So I hope you liked it, especially since I gave them a happy ending.**

**Did anyone catch the mention of the slap in my** **spoilers** **? *hehe* I have like a thousand story ideas that I am trying to control.**

**Questions: What was your favorite chapter? Favorite scene? Favorite character? Should I write more things like this?**

**Please leave love on this, this story was a lot of work.**

**Stay Safe**

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Leave a comment and kudos. Means a lot. Stay Safe


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